


vanilla

by radical



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Couch Sex, M/M, Making Out, adult men in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:18:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4973083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radical/pseuds/radical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this story is literally just about snake and otacon getting frisky on a couch</p><p>alternative summary: otacon takes poor snake for a ride</p>
            </blockquote>





	vanilla

**Author's Note:**

> this story is so bad
> 
> In my defense, I originally wrote this for a kink meme prompt until I realized, after finishing, that I had totally gone in a different direction. OOPS.
> 
> So this WAS supposed to be submitted under the glorious veil of anonymity, but since I'm kind (and like attention) I'm sharing it with you.

Snake liked to think that he was a decently intuitive man. His predictive skills were instinctual and honed- had to be. He could get a read off a situation or person without much effort or consideration- it was a gift. It was a weapon.

  
But sometimes, once in a blue moon, he was caught off guard.

  
It was Otacon.

  
If someone had asked Snake what he thought his partner in (quite literal) crime would be like in the sack, he would have CQC'd them into oblivion.

  
...If someone had thoroughly tortured him until he was forced to reveal some kind of vague answer, that answer would have been a grunted 'vanilla'.

  
There was nothing wrong with vanilla, though. Snake's life didn't have enough vanilla. Vanilla was a prized resource.

  
Snake caught himself thinking about it more and more often and the months went on and Philanthropy continued to function out of a roach-infested apartment above a bowling alley. Yeah, Otacon would be soft and sweet. Trusting. Receptive. Safe. That's just how he was in anything other than strategic planning and coding. It was reliable.

  
Snake had never been so wrong.

 

* * *

  
Otacon was a freak in the sheets.

 

* * *

  
So, this is how he found out.

  
They were sitting on the couch, twenty minutes into watching some dumb action movie when Snake made a move. It seemed like the right thing to do- Otacon was laughing at some sort of factual inaccuracy of a car fire on the screen and his face was just so-

  
Snake honed in on his target without much preamble. One moment Otacon was obliviously mocking bad science, the next he was in Snake's lap being manhandled into a soft kiss.

  
He was more than receptive to the change in plans, which Snake was relieved about. He hadn't been sure if Otacon was harboring a massive crush on him as well, didn't know if-

  
"I've been harboring a massive crush on you," Otacon murmured wetly between kisses before diving back into another round of tongue wars. 

  
"Oh yeah?" Snake asked, grabbing Otacon's thighs. 

  
"Fuck yeah," Otacon verified. "I hardly hide it well."

  
Oh, yeah. Score one for Snake.

  
So they continued like that for a while, getting a hands on education of each other's anatomy as Bruce Willis continued to action it up in the long forgotten movie. Snake had figured that they would relax after a while of making out, maybe cuddle, maybe talk about things. Vanilla, almost.

  
That plan was shattered when Otacon reached down, grabbing Snake's hands from his legs only to relocate them to his ass a heartbeat later. He leaned forward to bite Snake's stubbled jaw. His dick was hard against- hey, when had he straddled-

  
"We can stop," Otacon said, noticing the overwhelmed look on Snake's face. He kissed him them, sweetly. "This is nice."

  
Snake took a steadying breath, eyes squeezing shut. 

  
He opened them and looked into Otacon's eyes, which were really really pretty and really really soft and-

  
Massive, massive crush being harbored. Roger that.

  
"Nah, I'm good," Snake said confidently, hefting Otacon forward to lean on his chest. He squeezed Otacon's ass tentatively, then again, rough, when Otacon whispered 'hell yes' into his mouth.

  
The next thing Snake knew his shirt was gone- his shirt was gone? And holy shit, Otacon was practically worshiping his nipples with his tongue, his fingers teasing the elastic of his underwear.

  
"That feels fantastic," Snake commented in a dazed voice. His hands, he realized, were lying by his legs, useless. He brought them up to frame Otacon's face, which was buried in the line of hair that littered his abdominals.

  
"God, Snake," he breathed. "I've wanted to get my hands all over you since day one." He looked up, face pink and- aw, shit, he was too much to look at. Snake diverted his eyes, looking at his hair instead. It was a mess, which was also cute.

  
Fuck.

  
"My mind was on the mission on day one," Snake replied dryly. Otacon huffed against his stomach, his chin bumping against the button of his jeans. 

  
When had that button opened?

  
Snake's brain was busy processing the situation- new facets of Otacon, areas he would have assumed the other man was inept at- this was all new. Otacon was proving to be deadly in finding and assaulting Snake's weak spots on his body. The same quick thinking and strategic skill were proving to be an asset in-

  
"Stop thinking," Otacon ordered from the floor, where he was kneeling and leaning over Snake's clothed dick with intent. 

  
"I wasn't," Snake grumped, watching entranced as Otacon peeled his jeans down his legs, then his briefs. "My mental abilities have been totally compromised."

  
Otacon wasn't listening to him. He was eyeing his dick like a particularly frustrating code that needed to be revised. His face was serious and hungry.

  
Snake didn't stand a chance.

  
"You've gotta be kidding me," he moaned as Otacon choked around his dick, the noises oddly sweet to his ears. He threaded his fingers into the hair tickling his stomach and gently tugged with the intent of exposing what exactly was going on down there.

Otacon moaned enthusiastically.

  
"You like that, huh?" Snake tugged again, looping more hair into his fingers.

  
"God, yeah," Otacon pulled up to reply. "Harder." Then he was back down, going at Snake's dick like he was trying to prove something. 

  
Something exploded on the television. Snake vaguely thought it was funny in a metaphorical way. 

  
"I'm gonna- Otacon," he warned, pulling Otacon off his dick. "I don't wanna-"

  
Otacon looked concerned. "You don't wanna come? In my mouth?" His hands pumped Snake, restless. "I want it, though."

  
Snake had no reply. His mouth wouldn't work. This was too much.

  
"Or how about," Otacon crawled up his body, pulling his shirt off in a fluid motion. "How about you tell me what you want, Snake?"

  
Snake slotted his hands under Otacon's ribcage before leaning forward to give the pale skin a few quick kisses. 

  
"I don't know what I want," he admitted. He wanted more, he knew that. But-

  
"Geez, Dave, who would have thought you'd be the vanilla one?" Otacon said with a smirk, lazily grinding his ass against Snake's cock. The fabric of his pants felt rough and incredible. Snake growled and pulled him back into a series of kisses.

  
After a minute or two Otacon moved his face to kiss at his ear, his breath making Snake's skin erupt into goosebumps. "Am I too much," he asked softly, worry evident in his voice.

  
"No," Snake replied a tone too aggressively, pushing Otacon back minutely to look in his face. "Otacon, I want this."

  
"Yeah?" Otacon's face lit up, even moreso when Snake's hands traced down his chest to cup his dick. 

  
"I want you," Snake admitted, the words falling out of his mouth like marbles. 

  
"Yeah," Whether Otacon was replying to his statement or his hand touching his dick, Snake wasn't sure.

  
It didn't matter.

 

* * *

  
Ten minutes later they were fucking in the blue haze of the tv, the VHS tape long since having ended. 

  
Snake wasn't sure how it happened (Otacon was sneaky, quick, resourceful) but he wasn't going to question a good thing.

  
And Otacon was. A good thing. So fucking good. 

  
"You're so good," Snake vocalized, caught in the way Otacon was fucking himself on his dick. The couch was damp beneath with sweat and an excessive amount of lube. Otacon's skin was on fire beneath his hands.

  
"Don't I know it," Otacon quipped, gripping around Snake's wrists, keeping his hands grounded on his skinny hips. "Good ol' Hal, that's me."

  
He felt so breakable under his grasp, Snake thought. He felt a surge of protectivness, then a surge of something entirely different. Otacon's speed had increased and- ah-

  
"I'm coming," Snake choked out, unable to fight the urge to bury himself balls deep in his partner and just fill him up, mark him up inside- "Fuck, Otacon, Hal, fuck."

  
Otacon kissed him through it, pleased.  
  


* * *

 

 

They finished up minutes later, with Snake's fingers buried in Otacon's ass and mouth on his neck.

  
Otacon was a screamer. It figured.   
  


* * *

 

 

"Snake, that was amazing," Otacon praised after a while of sticky cuddling, their breath having returned to semi-normal.

  
Snake nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. He raised a hand to rub at his partner's back, eyes glazed.

  
"Otacon," he said after a while. "Uh, where did all that come from? Not that I'm complaining." Far from it.

  
"Oh, yeah," Otacon traces a circle in Snake's chest hair, watching it whorl. "You know, japanese animes. Hormones. Living in close proximity with a man who can kill a bear with a karate chop. A mix of all of the above."

  
"CQC isn't karate," Snake muttered, kissing his forehead.

  
"Shhh."


End file.
